It's The Great Pumpkin,Severus Snape
by skullfarmer
Summary: I know Halloween is over. Sue me. Snape spends the night in Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Finished
1. Default Chapter

IT'S THE GREAT PUMPKIN,SEVERUS SNAPE  
  
By Ed Cowell  
  
"Lemon drop."  
The gargoyle didn't move.  
"Lemon...I don't know,lemon lollipop?"  
Nothing.  
Snape put a hand to his forehead. "Lemon ice cream. Lemon gobstopper.  
Lemon juice. Lemon curry? Lemon fudge. Butterbeer with a twist of lemon..."  
"Butterbeer with a twist of lemon?"   
Albus Dumbledore looked as if he were suppressing a fit of laughter. He was a man who valued a good laugh,or at least a prolonged smile. His eyes twinkled like stars on a moonless night.  
"Albus,I need you to see something."  
Snape held up his hand. He clenched a videotape in one fist.   
"This is the most disturbing thing I have ever seen."  
The twinkle dwindled a bit. He looked justifiably concerned.  
"Come in,come in."  
Snape swept into Albus's office,alive with a thousand quiet noises. Fawkes was relaxed on his regular perch. Fawkes sang a note that made Snape's spine vibrate. Snape listened as the tone vanished,stroking the plumage along Fawkes's head. He felt sure that Fawkes could see into him,and that he trusted what he saw.  
"Now,what's the matter,Severus?"  
"You have to see this," He handed the videotape to Dumbledore.  
Dumbledore magicked a few items out of nothingness; Snape knew what they were-a television,a videocassette recorder. He placed the cassette in the machine,and turned the television on.  
Snape had to turn his back while the tape played; he could still hear it all,though,and it brought all the horror back-  
This time,Dumbledore really did laugh.  
"You've NEVER seen this?" he asked,trying not to choke.  
"But,Albus...the dog's having World War One flashbacks and the other kid is writing to some pumpkin creature to come visit him and bask in the sheer sincerity of his vegetable patch-"  
"Severus,really,I didn't think there was anyone on Earth,muggle or not,who hasn't experienced IT'S THE GREAT PUMPKIN,CHARLIE BROWN."  
"You mean...it's perfectly normal?"  
"Of course it's normal,it's a beloved cultural institution the world over. You've never heard of Charles Schultz?"  
Snape was lost for words. He stood there agape,and shook his head.  
"You've never...Severus,you never fail to astound me."  
"But it's a muggle-"  
"Severus...you recall I once called music a magic beyond what we do at Hogwarts,do you not?"  
"I remember it,yes."  
"Charles Schultz had a special talent...throughout history,there have been people who were not wizards,but they couldn't be called muggles,either,because they harnessed a kind of magic in themselves far more mysterious than what we understand. Mozart had it. Rod Serling had it. Many artists like them have it. Charles Schultz did,too. His drawings still bring joy to people even after his death."  
Snape thought for a moment.  
"I want to try it."  
"Try what?"  
"Hagrid has a pumpkin patch. I'll ask his permission. May I be excused?"  
"Certainly,Severus."  
He practically ran from the room.  
Dumbledore turned to Fawkes. "This ought to be interesting."   
  
Outside,the wind nearly blew Snape off of his feet. He made his way towards Hagrid's hut. He knew what Hagrid's answer would be,but since it was Hagrid,he would attempt courtesy. Spending time with Hagrid had been one of Snape's only pleasant memories of being a Hogwarts student. Even after the unspeakable things he'd done as a Death Eater,Hagrid refused to forsake him or hate him. In that business with the Sorceror's Stone,Hagrid had been his staunch defender. He,in  
return,did what he could when Hagrid was sent to Azkaban. He had tried to help Hagrid in his troubles with the hippogriff; Hermione Granger beat him at many turns, and so his support was reduced to a supportive glance at breakfast or a hand on the shoulder at staff meetings. He considered Hagrid a friend; he may not have been   
sure how to express this,but Hagrid didn't mind. Snape was glad to know someone as kind,as gentle as Hagrid; he lived simply,but was not a simple man,as some people assumed of him. Fortunately,everyone at Hogwarts knew better.  
The wind died down as he made his way towards the hut. It had been windy all day,but there were no clouds to blow around. The sky had turned solid gray for Halloween. When he felt in the mood,he called it Samhain. There had been a heavy metal band in the 1980s called Samhain,so he tried to refer to the holiday as Halloween. Usually,it was all the same to him,but not now,not this time.   
He arrived at Hagrid's and knocked on the door. Immediately,Fang began barking. He had a fearsome bark,but Fang was a good dog. Draco Malfoy had once told him that Fang was a cowardly mutt,but Draco Malfoy was rather an odious prat,even if he was a Slytherin.  
"Hagrid," he called. "Hagrid,are you there?"  
The door burst open. When he saw Snape,Hagrid's grin stretched from one side of the doorframe to the other. "Professor Snape," he said. "Care fer some tea?"   
"Not at the moment,Hagrid,I'm due for class in a minute. Perhaps later. I'm not sure how to say this,Hagrid..." Hagrid waited,curiosity now in his enormous smile. "...I need your help...with...an endeavour."  
"Jus' name it."  
"I'd like to sit in your pumpkin patch tonight. All night."  
"Yeh mean like IT'S THE GREAT PUMPKIN,CHARLIE BROWN?"  
Snape felt his jaw swing down,but he caught it. "Exactly."  
Hagrid started to laugh; Snape swore he felt the ground shake. Not that he would have admitted it,but he loved watching Hagrid laugh.   
"See yeh tonight,then. 'Round sundown?"  
"Sounds like a plan."  
Hagrid's deep bass laugh followed him all the way back to the school.  
  
At the end of the day's last endurance session,more commonly known as Potions,Snape went back to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid was there; he was not alone. As he expected,Albus was there, helping him rearrange a a few of the pumpkins. Some of those things were almost as big as Hagrid. Professor Sprout was also there,knees in the dirt,also manipulating pumpkins. Also present,to Severus's surprise,was young Colin Creevey. Snape smirked; he would have minded,but anyone who got on Potter's nerves as much as Colin was all right by him.  
"All right,Professor?" Hagrid asked.  
"Very much so,Hagrid. Nice of you to join us,Mr. Creevey."  
"Hello,Professor. The headmaster had the idea that I should be here with my camera. Just in case."  
"Just in case of what?"  
"In case there really is a Great Pumpkin," Albus said. Creevey  
pointed the camera; Albus smiled just in time for the flash.  
"But there isn't-"  
"But what if there is?" Sprout asked.  
"Yeh never know," Hagrid said,"With everythin' creepin' around the forest. Colin,is yer brother coming?"  
One of Snape's most vivid memories was the image of Dennis Creevey entering the Great Hall after having fallen in the lake,draped in Hagrid's huge overcoat. He liked to imagine that Hagrid had hoisted him out of the water with one arm,torn off his coat and wrapped it around the boy.  
"He said he would," Colin said. "He wanted to stop by the feast first. I guess he wants to stuff his pockets to prepare."  
"I don't remember Linus eating anything," Snape said.  
Colin shrugged. "Group picture," he said.  
Hagrid made up the background; Snape,Sprout,and Dumbledore stood  
in front of him. After thinking about it,Colin set the timer and   
raced into the group. Professor Sprout put her hand on his shoulder.  
The bulb flashed. "Good one," Colin said. 


	2. 2

2.   
  
He stood in front of the doors; going in would have been so easy. He  
wanted to walk in,more than anything. Harry could hear hundreds of laughing voices on the other side. He could not imagine celebrating this night,and wondered if he would ever be able to contemplate the simple act of trick-or-treating. The truth was that he didn't feel like going into the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast and didn't feel like going to Nick's deathday party. In fact-  
"Mr. Potter."  
Harry turned.  
She stood away from the light,but Madame Hooch's golden eyes shone  
in the darkness. She wore her usual simple combination of black and white. Her short, spiky hair would have been a beacon in the blackest cellar. She stepped into a patch of moonlight,shining through a nearby window. She joined him at the doors.  
"Thinking of going in,are you?"  
"I'm not in a celebratory mood tonight,Madame."  
She didn't say "I understand" or "Poor Harry" because somehow she knew that anything along those lines would make him feel worse. Instead, she offered a solemn nod.  
"I was thinking of going for a walk," he said.  
"Would you care for some company?"  
"All right," he said.  
The Great Hall doors swung open. "Why,Harry," Professor McGonagall said. She didn't look as severe as she usually did. Dignified,yes,  
but now she offered Harry a gentle smile.   
"Evening,Professor." He then said "Happy,um..."  
"That's all right,Harry. I know what you mean."  
"Thanks."  
"Out for a stroll,Therese?"  
"With Mr. Potter as my escort. Would you like to join us?"  
"Why not?"  
Harry stepped out, one very elegant lady on each arm.  
  
"Would anyone like to tell a ghost story?" Dumbledore asked.  
The fire blazing around their circle shone the same color   
as Dumbledore's eyes. It tossed shadows over their faces.  
"Eh," Moody said. "Albus,we aren't the best people to tell ghost   
stories. Me idea of a ghost story is 'Today,I ran into Nick in the  
restroom and helped him vent some excess ectoplasm.'"  
Colin laughed. Professor Moody grinned at him.  
"I had a feeling we might reach that conclusion," Dumbledore said. "I  
brought some reading material,especially for tonight."  
"What'd yeh bring?" Hagrid asked.  
"Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Raven.'"  
"Excellent choice," Sprout said.  
"The best possible," Snape said.   
"I also brought some Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu and Guy De Maupassant-"  
"Didn't Guy De Maupassant go insane?" Sprout asked.  
"He certainly did. You can track his mental state by the stories he  
wrote. As he lost his mind,his fiction got stranger and stranger.   
I found a book of Stephen King's short stories in Hogsmeade the other  
day. I think 'Gramma' or 'The Reach' would be perfect. Let me see,  
what else did I bring...Ah,yes,Kathe Koja's EXTREMITIES. Has anyone  
else read Koja?"  
Nobody had. "Well,not after tonight." he looked around his feet. "Ah  
yes...Kafka. Charlee Jacob. I wanted to bring together the masters  
of the written macabre together,past and present. I think-"  
A shadow rose up from behind Alastor and Colin; Dumbledore followed   
it as it climbed the pumpkin behind them and reached out towards   
the group-  
"Could someone please get me off of this pumpkin?"  
Colin looked back,then laughed. "Get down yourself,Den."  
Dennis Creevey smirked back at him. "I can't,I'm holding a-"  
Professor Moody stood up and helped Dennis off of the pumpkin.  
He was holding a flat square box in one hand; a wire was plugged  
into the box, and these tendrils led up to his ears.  
"He's got a...CD player,is it,Dennis?" Moody asked.   
"Right,professor."  
"And whose music have you been experiencing,Mr. Creevey?" Dumbledore asked.  
"They're called Last Days Of Humanity,Headmaster. From Holland."  
"One of my favorite places."  
Dennis handed him the CD case. Dumbledore looked at it,then back  
up at Dennis,amused. "'The Sound Of Rancid Juices Sloshing Around Your Coffin'?"  
"Their first CD."  
Dumbledore perused the track titles. As he did,he shook with laughter. "I must hear 'A Reeking Pile Of Septic Brainfluid',Mr. Creevey."   
"I didn't know you liked goregrind,Headmaster." He handed over the   
CD player and the earphones.  
"Honestly,Dennis,I haven't heard very much. I know of a band from   
Poland called Pathologist. I can hear the influence of Bach in their  
music. Then of course,there are Napalm Death and Carcass. Napalm Death is considered a grindcore band,not a goregrind band,but the two genres are not that far apart,are they?"  
Dennis's eyes were wide. "No,they aren't."   
"You look surprised."  
"I had no idea you'd know about any of those bands."  
"I love music,Mr. Creevey. Chamber music is my favorite,but it's   
not all to which I listen." He put the earphones in his ears and  
hit PLAY.  
"Uh oh,Brian...Now you're REALLY losing your mind..."  
He listened to it with a look of bliss and amazement on his face.  
When the track ended,he handed everything back to Dennis. "Very  
interesting,Dennis."  
"How were the lyrics?" Moody asked.   
"The lyrics? Bluurrghh. Auuuuuughhh. Guuuurggggh. Variations on that  
theme."  
"Professor Snape?"  
"Yes,Mr. Creevey?"  
"What music do you like?"  
"I haven't been moved by music for some time,Mr. Creevey."  
"Then what was the last-"  
"Black Sabbath," Snape said quickly.  
"Did you say...Black Sabbath?"  
"You too?" asked Sprout.  
"Their music kept me from topping myself when I was young. Well,  
Hagrid shares just as much credit. I...don't know if I've ever... thanked you,Hagrid-"  
"No need ta thank me,Professor."  
"I had never heard anything like them...they played these monstrous,  
powerful riffs that flattened me every time I heard them."  
A shadow fell across the fire.  
"Well,hello,Minerva," Dumbledore said. 


	3. 3

3.  
  
This chapter contains some dark stuff,so I'm raising the rating to  
PG just in case. This is what I do best,what a friend of mine   
calls "mining the recesses of the psyche."   
  
Rupert: Yes,it's certainly shaping up that way.  
  
Princess and Aeryn: Glad ya laughed. It'll be funny again,I swear.  
  
Fantasy Cat: I promise you won't be disappointed.  
  
Christine: Thanks for the encouragement!  
  
jasmin flower: I thought it was perfect for Snape..."Generals   
gathered in their MAS-SES...Just like WITCHES at black MAS-ESSSSS..."  
I think he'd like Type O Negative and Acid Bath,because they're   
both heavily influenced by Sabbath.  
  
Barbarataku: Wow. Guess I better get to work,then. Here we go:  
  
"-so this kid comes up on the porch,right? And he's ringing my doorbell yelling TWICK OR TWEAT and I can't come to the door because I'm not finished killing the guy-"  
"Why were you strangling him again?"  
"Garroting. Not strangling. There is a difference. The truth is that  
I find it intellectually stimulating. Murder,I mean. I've killed   
fifteen people,all in drastically different ways. Tonight,I garroted  
Mr. Campbell with piano wire,adding to my ever-growing repertoire. I  
could write a manual,I really could. 'Five Hundred Ways To Kill Muggle Filth' and the very first page would just read 'Method Number One.' in block letters."  
"One less neighbor,I suppose."  
"I mean,sometimes I feel like I depend on the Cruciatis curse too  
much,Lucius. Of course,I abuse the Killing Curse like it's going  
out of style. I just wanted to experience the act with my own two  
hands."  
"How did it feel?"  
"...great. It felt great."  
"Did you kill the kid,too?"  
"Nah. By the time Mr. Campbell finally kicked it,the kid gave up and   
left. Good thing for him,too. I have a nasty habit of getting rough  
with kids. Don't know what it is. I'm not a pedophile or anything-  
that's one thing even Voldemort despises-it's just that I get these  
weird...urges...sometimes-"  
I really truly hate this man, Lucius thought. He had never told   
the man his name,but he supposed his name preceded him,as it was  
wont to do. This man was not a handsome man; he was ratty,  
unkempt,thin-faced and pale. His eyes were watery and reddish.  
Lucius wouldn't have been surprised if he were a junkie.   
"But you've killed children,have you?"  
"Of COURSE I kill children. I wouldn't be here if I weren't."  
He eyeballed Lucius.  
"You have a kid at Hogwarts,don't you?"  
That's IT,Lucius thought; he siezed his companion by his shirtfront  
and wrapped his left leg around the other man's. He toppled to the  
ground,leaves crunching under him. Lucius landed on top of him. He   
straddled his companion,digging both knees into his sides.  
"Listen,you degenerate pervert," he growled,"I may be a Death Eater,  
but I have my limits and you're treading on them. I do have a son  
at Hogwarts. I love my son. Sometimes he can be a real pain in the   
arse,but he's my SON and I would go stark staring mad if anything   
happened to him. You know those cosmic gods H. P. Lovecraft was always going on about? If you don't shut up, I'll summon 'em. They're bad boys and they love tricks as much as they love treats."  
"Really,Lucius."  
Lucius looked up.  
Voldemort stood over them. But he looked strange-  
"Why are you dressed like a clown,Lord Voldemort?"  
"It is Halloween,Lucius." He took a bite of the Snickers Cruncher  
bar he was holding. "You know,for muggle candy,this tastes good."  
"Lord Voldemort,I would like to say something." Lucius got to his feet. "I am vehemently opposed to working with this individual."  
Voldemort sighed. "What's the problem,Lucius?"  
"I find his presence highly emetic,that's what. He's a disgusting  
individual,a danger to himself and others,particularly me,and I  
am shocked-SHOCKED-that you would-"  
Voldemort waved his hand,and Lucius felt his feet leave the ground.  
"Are you questioning my wisdom,Lucius?"  
"I-"  
Voldemort placed his palm flat against Lucius's forhead and pushed.  
Lucius gasped; in a moment,his feet were dangling in the air and   
his face rested inches from the ground.  
"You know better than that," Voldemort said,almost singing.  
He waved his hand again. Lucius fell to the ground.  
"I'm aware of your partner's proclivities,Lucius. You know I always  
do know. He slaughters children. You and I can identify with that.  
He's also a heroin addict,yes,but since when did being a self-destructive junkhead restrict anyone from being a Death Eater? You will work together and you will like it,Lucius. Now get up."  
Lucius got to his feet. His nameless partner swayed a bit when  
he stood up.  
Voldemort handed them each an automatic weapon.  
"These are called Uzis," Voldemort said. "You are to go into the   
forest with only these. They fire something like eighty rounds of  
ammunition a second. You will make your way through the forest and   
kill everybody you can on the other side. If you must kill the boy,  
make sure Dumbledore witnesses it."  
"It'll be a bloodbath,my lord," Lucius said.  
"Excellent. Now,gentlemen,I leave the night in your hands...I have some trick-or-treating to do."  
He Disapparated.  
"Why does Dumbledore have to see the boy die?"  
"Because Voldemort is afraid-" Lucius couldn't say it,so he tried  
a different approach. "The best way to kill Dumbledore is to   
murder Harry Potter. It's just Voldemort's way of breaking Dumbledore  
over his knee."  
"Cold but effective."  
"Personally,I'm saving a bullet for Snape." 


	4. 4

4.  
  
"...And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,   
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the   
floor;   
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor   
Shall be lifted- nevermore!"  
Dumbledore closed the thick leatherbound volume.  
"Wow," Harry said.   
"You hadn't heard that,Harry?"  
"I don't think I'll ever forget it now. Could I...borrow it?"  
"Certainly," Dumbledore said. He handed the book to Harry. "Be  
careful with it,please."  
"I'll be very careful," Harry said. He opened the book to the   
first page. Someone had written in the book. He frowned for a   
second and then he realized-  
"This is Edgar Allan Poe's AUTOGRAPH."  
Dumbledore chuckled. He studied the group over his half-moon glasses.  
There were ten people sitting in the pumpkin patch now,around the  
fire. There was room for more. There was Dumbledore himself; Minerva  
sat on his left,then Harry,Madame Hooch,Severus,the Creevey brothers  
forming the curve,then Alastor,Hagrid and Sprout. All of them were  
as sincere as could be.  
"I find Poe quite essential," Madame Hooch said.  
Dumbledore nodded. "Particularly tonight."  
"He wrote all that while he was drunk," Alastor said.  
"He did?" Colin asked.  
"It was the only way he could write,laddie. I prefer 'The Tell-Tale  
Heart' meself."  
"What's that one about?" Hagrid asked.  
"It's about a man who's driven insane by guilt," Snape said,  
staring into the fire. "No. Wait. He's already insane. Hagrid,it's   
about a man who's...mentally troubled. There's an old man...Poe  
never makes their relationship clear-"  
"He kills the old man," Sprout explained.  
Snape nodded. Then he noticed how close Hagrid and Sprout were. In  
fact,they were holding hands. Hagrid and Sprout? How many laws of   
physics did that break?  
"He upends the bed onto the old man," Moody said,"And then he   
dismembers the corpse in the tub and puts all the bits and pieces under a floorboard. Poe never said if he used an axe,but how else would ya do it in those days? Then some policemen come to visit  
him and he goes completely unhinged,convinced they know what he did.  
In the end,he rips up the floorboards,shrieking-" Professor Moody  
cleared his throat; he spoke the next words as if he were a famous  
actor onstage; "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!--tear up the planks! here, here!--It is the beating of his hideous heart!"   
"Very dramatic," Hagrid said.  
"Thanks," said Moody.  
"I could have brought some more stories. I wish I'd brought some  
Robert Bloch or Ramsey Campbell. Or even some Joe R. Lansdale.   
'Night They Missed The Horror Show' is one of the best short  
stories I've ever read. Perfect for tonight."  
"What time is it?" Dennis asked.  
Dumbledore consulted his watch. "Nearly midnight,Dennis."  
"The witching hour," Minerva said,with a sly grin.  
"How long will we be out here?"  
"All night," Snape said. "Linus's sister had to go out at three in   
the morning and remove him from the pumpkin patch. So shall we sit  
here in honor of his sincerity."  
"Feelin' sleepy,Dennis?" Hagrid asked.  
"Not right now."  
"We're keeping each other awake," Sprout laughed.  
"Read another story,Albus."  
Agreement rang around the fire.  
"All right...how about Charlee Jacob? I brought one of her short  
fiction collections with me. There's a story in here called 'Apodomania' that I'd read if I wasn't worried it would traumatize  
you all for the rest of your lives."  
"I don't know,Albus," Madame Hooch said,"That's an incitement to  
read it. For me,at least."  
"I'll read 'The Moon's Carnival.' It's about a witch." He glanced at Harry,and Harry knew this story was for him.  
Dumbledore opened the book and began to read; the fire swept his words into the night. 


	5. 5

I'm upping the rating one more time...you'll see why...  
  
5.  
  
Scant leaves clung to the twisted trees; Lucius was used to seeing  
all the trees around Malfoy Manor bare by this time of year. Most of the trees were skeletal. The bare branches chittered in the wind.  
An angry maelstrom of leaves whirled deeper into the woods.  
  
Above the dark treetops, the stars glittered. He couldn't see the  
moon,but he knew that it was full.  
His partner leaned against a nearby tree.  
"So where are the monsters?" he asked.  
"Around," Lucius said.   
"They could be watching us?"  
"At least they're not under your skin," Lucius said. "You know,I   
don't even know your name."  
"Hughes," he said. "Charleston Hughes."  
"Hughes," Lucius thought for a moment. "I don't know that name."  
"We keep to ourselves."  
  
The leaves felt soggy under his feet. They were thick and squishy;  
Lucius had to kick a few away from his boots.   
Somewhere above him,a bird screeched. The sound echoed all through  
the dark forest. Lucius shivered,and then chastised himself. If  
that idiot giant Hagrid could come here without fear, surely they  
were in no real danger.   
  
"Hughes," Lucius said, "Talk to me."  
He could no longer see his feet. A thick mist had settled over the forest floor.  
"About what?"  
"I don't know," Lucius said. "Have you always been what you are?"  
"I wanted to be a pathologist," Hughes said. "I-"  
He stopped in his tracks.  
"Did you hear that?"   
Lucius looked back at him.  
"I didn't hear a thing," Lucius said.  
Then,ahead of him,a tree branch fell into the mist.  
Lucius laughed. A moment later,Charleston started to laugh.  
He clapped Lucius on the back,"I'm sorry," he said,trying not to choke on his laughter.   
"It's all right," Lucius said.  
The wind picked up again.   
Above the whistling wind, a nearby tree began to shake.  
As they watched, the tree uprooted itself and ascended into the sky.  
"Whoa," Charleston said.  
"My sentiments exactly."  
Another tree,its proximity closer,tore itself away from the ground   
and ascended to the stars.  
Then,there was silence.   
The forest was absolutely still.  
"What-"  
"Shhhh..." Lucius said.  
He stepped into a small treeless glade; a pool of water held   
moonlight in its depths. Strange,how he could see the fat full  
moon in the water's reflection but not in the sky.  
"Lucius?"  
Lucius looked back at Charleston.  
His eyes grew big as dinner plates.  
"Lucius? What is it?"  
Too late,he realized Lucius wasn't looking at him. Lucius was staring  
at what was behind him. More specifically-  
-above him.  
"Oh,sh-"  
A wave of hot air washed over Charleston.   
Lucius raised the Uzi and squeezed the trigger.  
A huge glop of thick stuff splooged out of the barrel. It didn't   
look exactly liquescent. But it certainly wasn't a hail of hot lead,  
either.  
Lucius took off running in the other direction.  
"Lucius,come back-"  
Another wave of burning air swept across his body. This was so  
hot that it burned worse than withdrawl; Charleston fell to the ground,landing on his back,writhing and screaming in agony. He could feel skin falling away from his hands,from his face,and then he looked up to see the enormous dragon,an electric-blue Scottish Spiketail as it zeroed in on him,reared its head back and projected a stream of fire at its prey. Charleston Hughes never had a chance. All  
the drugs in Charleston's system gave the poor dragon indigestion,but  
otherwise,the spiketail ate well.  
  
Lucius ran and ran,crashing through prickly brush and sharp tree  
branches,cutting himself a number of times. He tripped over an  
exposed tree root,and fell on his face into a muddy pile of leaves.  
"Wingardium leviosa..."  
Lucius rose into the air. Voldemort offered a clownish smile.  
He's supposed to look like John Wayne Gacy,Lucius thought.   
Voldemort pointed the Uzi at Lucius,pulled the trigger and splattered  
him with custard from head to toe.  
"What..." Lucius spluttered,"what is the MEANING-"  
Voldemort shrugged. "It was a test. He failed. You're passing."  
"How am I going to get out of here?"  
"Sorry,Lucius. That's not my problem."  
"I have been a devoted servant-"  
"Yes,you certainly have," Voldemort said. "So you should know how  
paranoid I can be. I don't know who to trust sometimes,Lucius. I  
have confidence in you. I'm sure you'll get out of the forest alive."  
"What am I going to do when I get to Hogwarts?"  
"Improvise."  
"IMPROVISE?"  
"No need to shout,Lucius. Now excuse me,I'm in the middle of   
kill...I mean trick-or-treating."  
With a POP,he Disapparated again.  
Lucius fell to the ground.  
For a moment,he lay flat on his back and stared up at the moon. 


	6. 6

This story is officially too strange to have a rating. If there were  
an Unrated option,that's the way I'd go. This chapter contains a brutal fight and three swear words. It's just going to get weirder...   
  
6.   
  
Harry had not stopped thinking about 'The Moon's Carnival.' The  
story really had been for him. While enchanted by the beauty of   
Charlee Jacob's prose,it was the story that affected him. He   
could identify with the main character,a little girl whose   
emerging witchly abilities caused her parents to lock her away for her entire life. But she was a witch and they couldn't take that  
away from her. It was very uplifting. Plus,he had never ever heard   
Professor Dumbledore swear,and when the line of dialogue 'What  
self-righteous bullshit!' appeared near the end,he said it with  
all the conviction of someone who had seen various prejudices   
leveled at the people he loved.   
"...Harry?"  
"I think he's-" Snape leaned over towards Harry. "Are you with us,  
Mr. Potter?"  
"Huh? Oh. I must've zoned out."  
"You looked deep in thought," Dumbledore said.  
"Were you reading another story?"  
"In a minute,Harry. Professor Snape had an idea. You were next."  
"Is there anything you'd like to say,Mr. Potter?" Snape asked.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Sincerity is what brings us together tonight. Is there anything you  
would like to say? If there is,it must be of the utmost sincerity."  
Harry thought for a moment.  
"I'd rather do it privately,Professor."  
"Why is that,Mr. Potter?"  
"They're very personal things...I mean,I wouldn't want to tell anyone  
else. Even though everyone around this fire-" don't cry "-is special to me-" keep your voice steady "-and lets me be me,like a member of a family-" no not in front of Dumbledore "-I wish could really-" he stopped talking. "Dammit," he said. "Excuse me." He got up,walked out of the pumpkin patch-hearing exclamations like "Harry!" "come back,Harry!" "Mr. Potter!"-and walked away.  
"Go after him,Severus." Professor McGonagall said.   
She gave him such a LOOK.  
"Me?"  
"You know tonight is difficult for him," Dumbledore said. "He didn't  
have to say what he said. Now get him back here,Severus. As sincerely as you possibly can."  
"I'll be back," Snape said,and left the circle.  
"He was utterly sincere," Madame Hooch said.   
"Sincerity can be painful," said Dumbledore.   
"You know,he thought I hated him," said Professor Sprout.   
"Why?" Hagrid asked.  
"He blamed himself for...Cedric. One night,he served detention in  
Greenhouse One and I asked him to catalogue some seeds. I came back to check on him and found him crying his eyes out. He asked me 'Do you hate me?' and I asked him 'Why would I hate you,dear?' and that  
made him cry harder and say 'I wish I'd died instead of Cedric,"  
and I just told him what happened to Cedric wasn't his fault and I   
could never hate him and held him until he calmed down."  
"If there's anyone here who has the right to vent,it's Mr. Potter," Moody said. "I don't want to be around if he ever does let rip."  
"I know he doesn't like me much," Colin said,"But-"  
"It's your idea of him he doesn't like,Colin," Dennis said.  
Everybody stared at Dennis.  
"You follow him around like a starstruck puppy. I know you hold him  
in awe,but you really should recognize that he just wants to be one of us. He is not his scar. He's famous,but that shouldn't matter,  
because he's our friend...bro."  
No one spoke for a moment. Colin stared openmouthed at his brother.  
"Wow," Moody said.   
"Very succinct,Dennis," Dumbledore said.  
"Want sincerity?" Madame Hooch asked. "Here's something sincere. I  
don't care how famous Harry is. I never have. He's the most polite,the kindest,the most selfless and interesting boy I know. Not  
to mention an amazing Quidditch player. You should have seen him earlier tonight. He was probably in silent anguish and he charmed my socks off. He took Minerva and myself out for a moonlight stroll before we found this fire. If he considers me family,I'm honored."  
"As am I," Sprout said. "Hagrid?"  
"Yeh know I love him," Hagrid said. He nodded at Dumbledore and   
McGonagall. "So do the two of yeh,I know it." They smiled at each  
other because it was absolutely true.   
"What about you,Alastor?"  
"I see much of meself in him."  
Another moment of silence,broken by Professor McGonagall.  
"What about Severus?"  
"It took me awhile to trust him," Moody said. "But then,it takes  
me awhile to trust everybody."  
"He's one of us," Madame Hooch said.   
"I feel more secure with him on staff," Sprout said.   
"Mmmm." McGonagall said. "I tend to agree. We've had our disagreements,but I've found Severus to be quite competent. He's   
been torn apart emotionally,maybe physically,too,and he's not sure how to express his feelings. He does like Hagrid."  
Hagrid looked thoughtful. "'Yeh know,he's a complex man,Professor Snape. He's got things built up inside,waitin' to explode."  
"Severus is indeed a man of many faces," Dumbledore said. "He can  
be rather trying at times,but he has always been a faithful friend and an interesting companion. I gave him the chance,and he accepted."  
"The Great Pumpkin's gotta come now," Dennis said.   
Everyone laughed.  
"Don't stop," Moody said,inbetween laughing. "What about me?"  
Madame Hooch opened her mouth,but Harry and Snape were back.  
Harry was smiling. Professor Snape was,too,surprisingly. At least  
his own variation on a smile.  
"All right,Harry?" Hagrid asked.  
"Yeah," Harry said. "I meant what I said."  
Hagrid smiled. The fire reflected the black depths of his eyes.  
"I'm glad the two of you are back," Dumbledore said. "I think I'll  
read another story. This one's by Thomas Ligotti."  
"I've read him," Alastor said. "He wrote a very short story called  
'New Faces In The City,' didn't he,Albus?"  
"He certainly did."  
"'One must speak of the impostor city,'" intoned Professor Moody.   
"Well,this is also a Ligotti tale. It's a Halloween story called 'Conversations In A Dead Language.' He opened the book-the spine  
read NOCTUARY-and found the page. He took a breath,and then-  
"Ah. The fire. I knew I saw fire,"   
Ten heads turned.   
Sibyl Trelawney stood in the fire-glow. They couldn't see her eyes  
through the glasses she wore.  
"Why,hello,Sibyl." Dumbledore said.  
"Don't encourage her,Albus." McGonagall muttered.  
"Fire bloomed in my Inner Eye," she said. You could get pneumonia  
just listening to her speak. "I wandered the halls for hours and then I knew it burned out here. I count ten around this fire. One more  
makes eleven-a number that brings luck to all."  
"You mean I might not die tonight,Professor?" Harry asked  
Professor McGonagall covered her mouth,trying to hide her laughter.  
"I'm afraid you're already doomed,Mr. Potter. She put a hand to her  
forehead. "Doomed,doomed,doomed..."  
"Well,there goes the Great Pumpkin," Colin said.  
"What did you say,Mr. Creevey?"  
"You should know," Minerva said. "You should have known he would say  
it before he did,isn't that right,Sibyl?"  
"Now,Minerva-"  
"Sibyl,do shut up," Minerva said.  
Trelawney's mouth fell open.   
"There's a standard of sincerity we're maintaining quite well."  
"You're calling me insincere? Well,I never. I knew your petty jealousy would upset me."  
She turned to leave.   
"Well. As long as we're ALL being COMPLETELY sincere,Sibyl..."  
Sibyl stopped in her tracks.  
Professor McGonagall sat right where she was,in Dumbledore's warm  
aura. "If you wanted to join us,you would have to keep your Inner Eye shut." Then she added "Not to mention your mouth."   
"Let me apologize in advance,especially to all the men here," Trelawney said."My inner eye reveals a catfight starting in the   
very near future."  
"Just my kind of fight," Professor McGonagall said.   
Then she curled her lips and growled at Professor Trelawney.  
"My inner eye says-"  
"Your inner browneye,you fraud. You should be working for one of  
those Muggle telephone services pretending to tell fortunes."  
Professor Trelawney darkened. "You know what your problem is,Minerva? Your problem is that you're too uptight. You desperately need to get rogered, but who would want you? Men aren't after the type of pussy you're still able to offer-"  
Professor McGonagall took a step towards Professor Trelawney. Then,  
lightning-quick,she became a cat and sprang at the other woman's face. Trelawney tried to get ahold of her,but those of you reading this who own cats know how hard it is to hold a cat who doesn't want to be held. It's nearly impossible when they're angry. She managed   
for a moment,but the cat struck her across the face with a front paw.  
Trelawney took her hands away,allowing the cat to sink its teeth deep  
into Trelawney's shoulder. Sibyl Trelawney danced this way and that,  
shrieking incoherent nonsense,and then there was a knife in her hand.  
Dumbledore sprang to his feet. "No,Sibyl-"  
Professor Trelawney poked the cat's paw with the knife; it was   
all she could do. The cat yowled,spurting blood, and fell at Trelawney's feet,and all at once it shifted back into Minerva McGonagall. Not all of her had transfigured,however; she looked up at Trelawney with a distinctly feline hiss. She pounced,taking Sibyl's legs out from under her. Trelawney landed hard on her tailbone,and dropped the knife. Minerva kicked it away from her,and then hauled Sibyl to her feet. Trelawney spat in her face. "Bitch."  
Minerva hauled her fist back and brought it into Trelawney's   
face. Something cracked under her fingers,and Trelawney crashed   
to the ground again. She crawled a few feet,and then ran back  
towards the castle.  
Professor McGonagall cradled her hand. "She stabbed me," she said in   
wonderment.  
She looked from her hand to the group. "I-"  
Albus was by her side before she could blink. She rested her head  
on his shoulder as he escorted her towards Hagrid's hut. "Hagrid,  
now's the perfect time to test your and Sprout's experiment."  
"Right,sir." He stood up and helped Professor Sprout to her feet.  
They disappered into the hut.   
"Everyone stay calm. Harry,your help would be most appreciated."  
Harry sprang to his feet and ran into Hagrid's.  
"Experiment?" What experiment?" McGonagall asked.  
"You'll see." Dumbledore escorted her into the hut.  
This left the Creeveys,Madame Hooch,and Professor Moody.  
"I hope you learned something from that,boys." Madame Hooch said.  
"Don't mess with Professor McGonagall?" Colin offered.  
"Nothin' I didn't already know," said Moody.  
"Close enough," Madame Hooch said. 


	7. 7

7.  
  
levity  
  
The Halloween Feast had been on for hourse. Whether they were in  
costume or not,the students all felt the spirit of the season.  
"I wonder what Harry decided to do," Ron said.  
He handed Hermione a chocolate chip cookie.  
As she ate it,Nick rose up through the table.  
"Hello,Sir Nicholas. Happy...uh...anniversary."  
"Well," Nick said. "I'm glad SOMEONE remembered."  
Hermione looked outraged. "No one came to your party?"   
He shook his head. "The elves are throwing the food away right now."  
"Do ghosts tell ghost stories?" Hermione asked.  
"No,Hermione." Nick said. "We do the opposite. The dead love to gossip about the living."  
"Oh. Well,have you heard anything interesting?"  
"The Bloody Baron walked through Draco Malfoy a while ago. He reports  
that Mr. Malfoy is wearing pink boxer shorts."  
Ron pounded the table and laughed,as did Hermione.  
"And what are you laughing at,Weasley?"   
Ron turned. "Speak of the Devil," he said. "Or in this case,the   
slimy git."  
Draco wore a shirt that read I'M AMBIVALENT ABOUT WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER. "Having a fun time with the Mudblood are you,Weasley?"  
"Right," Hermione said. She stood up,then swish-flicked her wand   
and said "Petrificus Totalis." She heard Ron saying something   
else. Her spell worked; Nothing happened with Ron's.  
Not immediately.  
Draco's tongue began to move independently of the Petrificus. As  
everyone watched,the tongue elongated,flowing down past his chin,  
his chest,his feet. Then it hit the floor-but it didn't stop. It  
crawled across the room,towards the doors leading out of the hall.  
Pansy Parkinson grabbed Ron. "What did you do to him?"  
Ron wrenched himself out of Pansy's grip. "Hypertrophus Mobilius.  
His tongue is growing. It also has a mind of its own and it wants to get the bloody hell away from him."  
To his surprise,Pansy laughed. "I'll remember that one." She turned  
away. "What a party," she said. 


	8. 8

8.  
  
Warning: this chapter contains partial nudity and sexual themes.  
I guess it's rated R. I do not own "Bonny Barbara Allen" or any of  
the characters.  
  
"Jus' sit down," Hagrid said. He swung the enormous chair towards  
Professor McGonagall and gave her a reassuring smile.  
"Thank you,Hagrid," she said,and Dumbledore steadied her as she sat.  
"A cloth soaked with cold water,please,Hagrid."  
Hagrid handed one over. Dumbledore immediately began cleaning   
the wound in her hand. "Don't worry,Minerva. I'm fully certified  
in First Aid."  
Someone knocked on the door.   
Harry opened it. Professor Snape entered,walking right past him.  
"I think I can be useful," Snape said. He held the dagger,which  
was stained with Professor McGonagall's blood. "I want to be sure  
she didn't poison the blade."  
"Severus,I doubt she'd have the imagination," McGonagall said,  
cradling her hand. She looked back at Hagrid and Sprout.   
Her mouth fell open. Hagrid had taken his shirt off. She could  
not help but gasp at the sight of his bare back and massive shoulders; she almost shuddered thinking of the power they held,  
considering how gentle he could be.   
"Hagrid,what-"  
He turned around; the thick hair on his enormous chest was as dark as his beard. It continued down towards his stomach,and then disappeared, as he still had his pants on. To use a muggle term,Hagrid was ripped. He was muscular without being musclebound,and the amazing thing was he didn't seem to be aware of his own beauty.   
But the most amazing thing was Adrianna Sprout,torn between  
getting Hagrid another shirt and further undressing him.   
Hagrid looked down at Professor McGonagall. Hagrid's eyes were so expressive. She saw concern,but also calm. "Yeh bled on me,Professor,  
ma'am."  
"Hagrid,give me your shirt," Snape said.  
Hagrid handed over his shirt to Snape.  
"I'm going to make some tea," Snape said.  
"Go right ahead," Hagrid said.  
"This looks wonderful on you," Sprout told Hagrid,handing him a   
different shirt-a massive brown one he'd knitted himself.  
Sprout beckoned to Dumbledore. He did not leave Professor McGonagall.  
He stood by her,rock-solid.   
"We need a minute,Albus. Just make Minerva comfortable."  
"Of course," he said.  
He knelt down in front of Minerva.  
"Sibyl was right," she said.  
"She was not," Dumbledore said.  
"Yes,she was,I'm dried up. My students hate me-"  
"That's not true," Harry said.   
"Harry,it's pointless trying to console me."  
"I'm not trying to console you," Harry said."I'm just saying,none   
of us hate you. It's the truth."   
"What Sibyl said was uncalled for," Dumbledore said.   
"But true."  
"No," he said. "Particularly what she said about no one wanting you."  
Their eyes locked.  
"I think I'll go help Professor Snape," Harry said.  
"Thank you,Harry."   
Harry beat a hasty retreat.  
"Minerva," Dumbledore said,"You know how I feel. You always have."  
"I know," she whispered,remembering. "Albus,I-"  
"Shhhh..." he said. "You don't have to say a word."  
He took her wounded hand in his. He kissed her fingertips.  
She managed a smile. "Is that part of First Aid training?"   
"No," he said. "But it is sincere."  
She pulled him closer.   
"I can't stand to see you in pain," he whispered. "When she stabbed  
you,I swear I felt it."  
She pulled his hand to her cheek,closing her eyes at its warmth.  
Actually,the heat surrounded them. She knew it well; its  
familiarity was welcome. She had the terrifying,wonderful urge  
to kiss him, wanted their bodies writhing together again, and wondered if he felt the same. She-   
"Here we are," Sprout said.  
Minerva nearly jumped.   
Hagrid placed a bowl before her. A clear, gummy substance filled the bowl to the brim.  
"What is it?"  
"It's like gauze," Sprout said. "Only more organic. It's almost like skin. Hagrid and I created it. We're thinking of taking out a patent.  
I'll administer it,if you don't mind,Albus."  
Reluctantly,Dumbledore and McGonagall separated.  
"Now-"  
Behind them,Harry began choking.  
"All right,there,Harry?" Hagrid asked.  
Snape whacked Harry on the back.  
Harry coughed a bit more. "Professor Snape," he gasped,"This tea is  
awful."  
"As it should be," Snape said. "Give it to me."  
Harry handed him the teacup; Snape took the knife and dipped part  
of the blade in the liquid. Fortunately,there was no blood on that  
part of the blade. He left it there for a moment. Then he took a   
sip and grimaced.  
"She didn't poison the blade," he sputtered.  
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.  
Dumbledore led them outside,leaving McGonagall and Sprout in the hut.  
"This will feel rather cold," Sprout said.   
She took Minerva's hand and spread some of the gluey paste over the wound. Minerva noted that she had washed her hands; Adrianna Sprout was a woman with grit,she thought. She wondered how it felt to be as in touch with nature as Sprout.  
As she worked,Minerva said "Addie?"   
"Yes?"  
"I don't want to pry into your personal life," she said,"But...are  
you and Hagrid-"  
Adrianna smiled. "We certainly are."  
She tried to find the right words.  
All she could muster was "How?"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well,he's...Addie,isn't his..."  
Sprout raised her eyebrows and laughed. Addie had a wonderful laugh  
that rang with dry sarcasm.  
"Hagrid is quite well-endowed," she said.  
"Doesn't it hurt?"  
"You know how gentle Hagrid is," Sprout said. "Besides,it's not as  
if he's sporting a yard-long erection,Minerva. There wouldn't be  
enough blood in both our bodies combined to support that. Hagrid  
is the kindest man I've ever known. He's good company." Her  
grin turned devilish. "And I'm sure you noticed his muscles."  
Minerva covered her mouth.  
"Even with all that muscle,he's so gentle. He's a great kisser."  
"What about Olympe Maxime?"  
"Madame Maxime...well,she prefers women."   
"...Oh."   
"Yes. It took him awhile to find out."  
"What about children? You might have-"  
"I can't have children,Minerva. You didn't know that?"  
"I'm sorry,I didn't know."  
"That's all right," she sighed. "Can I ask you a question?"  
"Of course you can."  
"What did it feel like?"  
"I'm sorry?"  
"Breaking Sibyl Trelawney's face. We've all wanted to do it. How did it feel?"  
Her lips twitched. In a moment,she was laughing. She hugged   
Sprout; Sprout hugged her back,laughing equally as hard.  
A moment of silence: then Sprout said "You know,it should be done  
by now."  
Minerva pulled away from her and examined her hand. It was absolutely  
smooth,as if she had not been stabbed at all. "Addie...what-"  
"It healed the wound quite well. Your skin absorbed it."  
"Thank you," she said.  
"You're quite welcome," Sprout said. "Now let's go sit outside,  
shall we?"  
"Let's go," Minerva said.  
They emerged from the hut to a standing ovation.  
Sprout sat down beside Hagrid. Minerva took her place beside Albus.  
He leaned into her ear."Nothing's going to ruin our Halloween," he told her. "What else could possibly happen?"  
He put an arm around her shoulders; she relaxed.  
The fire sent glowing blue cinders into the sky.  
Moody,watching them,began singing a melancholy ballad; his singing voice wasn't bad.  
"It was in and about...the Martinmas time...when the green leaves were a-fallin'..."  
Albus joined in. "...That Sir John Graeme...in the West country...  
fell in love with Barbara Allen..."  
Hagrid started the next verse. He was a bass,of course.  
He sent his men down through the town   
To the place where she was dwelling:   
'O haste and come to my master dear,   
Gin ye be Barbara Allen...'  
Now Madame Hooch took it.  
"O hooly, hooly rase she up...to the place where he was lying,   
And when she drew the curtain by...'Young man, I think you're dying.'   
She began singing the next verse-"Oh,ah'm sick,and very very-"  
Then she stopped abruptly.  
She stood up,and moved past the fire.  
"Something's coming out of the forest," she said.  
"What is it?" Harry asked.   
Madame Hooch said nothing for a moment. Then she scowled.  
She turned back to the group.  
"It's the Quidditch dad from Hell," Madame Hooch said. "Looks   
like he had quite a time in there,too."  
Suddenly everyone was looking at Severus.  
"Don't look at me like that," Snape said. "I don't know what he's doing here."  
"I'll handle this," Dumbledore said.   
He stood up and headed towards Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was covered in  
mud and blood-ha ha,who's the mudblood now,Lucius?-and,strangely  
enough-some sort of custard.  
Dumbledore put on his best smile. "Lucius. This is certainly a surprise."  
"Dumbledore," he said, "Now is not the time."  
"Lucius-"  
"SHUT UP,YOU SENILE OLD NITWIT-"  
"Did you know nitwit is one of my favorite words?"  
"YOU ARE THE WORST HEADMASTER THIS SCHOOL HAS EVER HAD-" he took  
a breath-"YOU'RE DRIVING HOGWARTS DOWN THE TOILET-" he had to take   
another breath,the poor man-"WHY DON'T YOU HURRY UP AND DIE SO WE CAN  
SALVAGE WHAT'S LEFT OF OUR DIGNITY?"   
"Really,Lucius,I had no idea you felt that way."  
There was just enough sarcasm in his voice.  
Lucius screamed like a berzerking barbarian and charged Dumbledore.  
Dumbledore held his ground.  
Lucius ran one more step and then ran into an invisible wall that  
had suddenly sprung into existence between them.   
"Take this away," Lucius snarled. "I want a piece of you."  
"No,you don't."  
Then he turned from Lucius and walked back to the fire. 


	9. 9

"Razorblade Catheter" belongs to Regurgitation. None of the bands  
mentioned in this chapter are my creation-they are ALL real,as   
is Last Days Of Humanity,in the other chapter. The Phantasy is also  
real,as is Lakewood,Ohio. Any sarcasm herein is out of love. I put myself in this chapter,but tried to avoid any Mary Sueisms. Jim is real,as is Steve Makita.  
  
"Y'better shop before ya get dropped."  
-Schnauzer,"The Franchise Freak"  
  
9.  
  
Lakewood,Ohio  
1:15 AM  
  
Apparently,the band onstage went by the name Regurgitation.  
Smoke hung in the air; some of it was from Nunslaughter's fog machine. The vapors clung to everything,even the walls. Voldemort had apparently missed their set. He would probably never hear "Bring Me The Head Of God" now. He hadn't caught the names of the first two bands.  
"...there's nothing in the world like making love to a beautiful  
woman...ESPECIALLY AFTER SHE'S DEAD!"  
Well,Voldemort thought,that's certainly a sudden contextual shift.  
"We call this one...'CADAVERIC...IMPREGNAAAAAATION'..."  
"Did they play 'Razorblade' yet?" someone asked him. Actually,they  
had to yell it over the noise.  
"I'm sorry?"  
The stick-thin young man blended in with the darkness of the club. He wore a hooded sweatshirt with the word BRODEQUIN emblazoned on the front. Voldemort couldn't help thinking that all the good band names had to be gone if musicians were naming their groups after Medieval   
torture devices.  
"Dude,'Razorblade Catheter.'"  
"I just got here," Voldemort said.  
The kid nodded and wandered away.   
Voldemort had wandered into the place-the Phantasy Niteclub-on a whim; there was a concert going on. The man screaming into the microphone for Regurgitation had promised that this would be their  
last song. A crowd had filtered in,and they were all talking about  
a band called Schnauzer. Apparently,they were local favorites.   
Regurgitation eventually wound down and stopped playing.  
Voldemort wandered through the sea of people; some of them were wearing costumes; some of them wore black leather bondage gear.  
He supposed there were no taboos in this place. He walked by the  
pirate ship-that's right,a life-size pirate ship that looked as if  
it had once been seaworthy. It sheltered the soundbooth and split  
the dark club into several zones.  
In the back,a merchandise table had been set up. People milled   
around it; Voldemort noticed the drummer from Nunslaughter. His  
name was Jim Sadist. He was well-built, his hair set back  
in a ponytail. He wore orange jeans and a shirt equipped with a   
dangling eyeball. Above that it read LOOKING GOOD. He wore squarish  
metal eyeglasses. He did a double take when he saw Voldemort.  
"Interesting," he said.   
"You find me interesting?" Voldemort asked.  
"Going out on Halloween dressed like John Wayne Gacy, I mean."  
He tried to remember the name.  
"I don't remember him," Voldemort said. "Listen,how many bands-"  
"...am I in right now?" he finished. "Schnauzer...Minch...Nunslaughter.Spawn Of Satan. All That Is Evil. Nine Shocks Terror...Scarver's Calling-"  
"Scarver?"  
"Christopher Scarver. The guy who killed Jeffrey Dahmer."  
"I remember that name," Voldemort smiled.  
"I'm also in...WATCHMAN!"  
He looked towards the stairs.  
"Hey,Jim," Watchman said.  
Watchman looked like what would result if Harry Potter were   
rolled into Rubeus Hagrid. He wore wire-rimmed glasses. He wasn't  
especially tall,but his shoulders and chest were distractingly big.  
He wore raggedy sweatpants. The front of his shirt was dominated by a dog. A schnauzer. The word SCHNAUZER was embossed across the top in a crazy,nearly incomprehensible script. Very bohemian.  
"Ed,man,we were worried you wouldn't get here."  
"You know I wouldn't miss this," he smiled. "I worked till six. Then  
I slept for awhile so I wouldn't fall asleep here-"  
"Your narcolepsy,right-"  
"Sleep apnea. Not narcolepsy. Either way,I have a sleep disorder that freaks people out. I woke up,ate supper-have you heard the Foetopsy  
CD yet?"  
"Not yet. Are you playing it Monday?"  
"On the show," Ed looked at Voldemort. "I have a radio show. My name's Ed." He shook Voldemort's hand.  
"Riddle. Tom Riddle."  
"So I watched BEAUTY AND THE BEAST until the cab came."  
"BEAUTY AND THE BEAST?" Voldemort laughed.  
"Did I say something funny?"  
"I wouldn't expect someone who loves this...music,if you can call it  
that...to be into a film like BEAUTY AND THE BEAST."  
"Well,sir,first,it is music and I find it as beautiful as Bach or Handel. Second,I have seen BEAUTY AND THE BEAST three hundred and ninety-four times. So if you have something bad to say about it,  
come on outside and we'll...have a discussion."  
"Later," Voldemort said. "I must get back to tricks-or-treats."  
He walked down the stairs,and out of the place.  
"I think you hurt his feelings," Jim said to Ed.  
"Eh," Ed said. Jim shrugged his shoulders.  
Voldemort reached the corner of West 117th and Detroit and tried to  
pick a direction. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice all  
the people following him until one of them said "Excuse me,sir?"  
Voldemort turned.  
"I heard you talking to Jim,and I have a question that needs answering." The man before him had no hair at all; he had no eyebrows  
or eyelashes; if he remembered correctly,the condition was called   
alopecia. He wore black jeans and a t-shirt that read CADAVER REMOVAL  
TECHNICIAN.  
"I'll help you,if I can."  
"Jeffrey Dahmer," the guy said. "You know the things he did,right?"  
"I've heard. Grisly." And brilliant,he thought. For a moment,he   
wondered if Dahmer could have made it as a Death Eater.  
"See...there was this local band called Apartment 213. The vocalist  
was a guy called Steve Makita. It was his brand of drill that Dahmer  
used,trying to turn his victims into personal slaves. I know Steve  
Makita. Does that make me evil by association?"  
"Interesting quandary," Voldemort said. He looked back towards the  
Phantasy.  
"That place is haunted,you know."  
"Really," Voldemort said,interested.  
"Oh yeah,the whole complex. Brian-he's the vocalist for Regurgitation-he owns Extreme Musick over there-it tried to kill him. They called a bunch of psychic investigators-"  
He droned on and on until Voldemort couldn't take any more. At   
this rate he would never get any candy. He wondered how many people  
were still giving anything out at one-thirty in the morning. He had  
to get away from this guy and there was only one way to do so.  
Voldemort took out his wand and pointed it at the boy. The kid   
heard 'sanguine'' and the other word was lost in the sudden ejection  
of brain matter through his ears. Dead,he fell to the pavement.   
Satisfied that there were no witnesses,Voldemort made his way down  
West 117th,reaching Madison Avenue before he realized it was only 9:30 on the West Coast. 


	10. 10

The characters are J.K. Rowling's. "Something To Believe In" belongs to Poison.   
  
10.  
  
"Now that I reflect upon it," Snape said, "I don't find IT'S   
THE GREAT PUMPKIN,CHARLIE BROWN nearly as disturbing as I did."  
"Well," Dumbledore said,"I believed something wonderful would happen tonight. It brought us together in the spirit of sincerity and the  
simple act of belief."  
"An alien concept to me," Snape said. "I've never felt the need to  
believe in anything."  
Moody began singing again.  
"Ah need somethin' to believe in..."  
"That's rather sad,Severus," Madame Hooch said.  
Snape sighed. "Look at our world. We have magical powers wether we  
believe in them or not."  
"Yeh've never wanted ta believe in anything,Professor?"  
"Never,Hagrid. I stay sane that way."  
"I've seen good people destroyed by an overabundance of sanity,"  
Dumbledore said. "There's nothing wrong with escaping into a story  
and wishing the characters could be real. I find myself in that  
situation on the occasions I've seen..."  
He trailed off.  
"Albus?" Minerva asked.  
"BEAUTY AND THE BEAST," Dumbledore said. "Whether it's Cocteau or   
Disney or even that bad one with-" he stopped again. "I-" he frowned,then looked over at Lucius. "Is he trying to dig under my invisible wall?"  
"Looks like it, Moody said.  
"You'll never get anywhere like that,Lucius," Dumbledore called.  
"Shut up,shut up,SHUT UP!" Lucius babbled. The mud on his clothes  
was now accented with dirt.  
"As I was saying,being able to believe-"  
"Dennis still believes in the Tooth Fairy," Colin giggled.  
Dennis raised his eyebrows. "Colin didn't know there's no Father  
Christmas until he was TWELVE."  
Harry tried not to laugh,and slapped a hand over his mouth.  
"Ask Dennis to tell his story about the Easter Bunny," Colin said.  
"What about the Easter Bunny?" Sprout asked. "I thought the Easter  
Bunny was an American thing."  
"Are there any American magic schools?" Dennis asked.  
"Certainly," Professor McGonagall said. "There are a few. There's  
one in New Orleans,Louisiana,one in Cleveland,Ohio, another one in  
Florida. There are more I don't recall at the moment. I'll let you  
know,Mr. Creevey. Now what about the Easter Bunny?"  
"The Easter Bunny is real," Dennis said. "I saw him."  
"Him?" Dumbledore asked. "You're sure it wasn't a female rabbit?"  
"I'm sure," Dennis said. "He wore a hat."  
This was too much for several people, Harry included. He covered his face with his hands,drew in his knees,and convulsed,helpless with laughter.  
"We're not laughing at you,Dennis," Sprout said. "We're just-" her  
words were lost in laughter.  
Snape,Hagrid and Dumbledore were the only ones not laughing. They heard Dennis say "He was seven feet tall. I swear,I saw him in our house. He put a basket of chocolate eggs down on the table and then he looked up...and he SAW me."  
Hagrid gasped. Dumbledore looked amazed. "He SAW you?"  
"He saw me. And then he smiled. His fangs were THIS long-" Dennis  
spread his hands six or seven inches apart. "I fainted. When I   
woke up,he was gone. I don't know how he got in or out,  
because all the doors and windows were locked. I checked."  
Harry stopped laughing. No one really noticed except Dumbledore.  
He knew why in a second; Harry's hand was at his scar.  
"Excuse me," Harry said,"I'll be right back."  
"If you're going to the boys' room,Harry," Dumbledore said,"I'll  
accompany you."  
Harry managed to nod. He got up,and Dumbledore caught up with him.  
When they were out of earshot,Dumbledore asked "Is it bad?"  
"It's always bad," Harry said. "My scar's been absolutely cold for so long and now it hurts-"  
"I'd interrogate Lucius Malfoy myself if I thought it would help."  
"It won't. He lies like..."  
"Like someone who thinks they're an excellent liar."  
"Exactly."  
They entered the castle.  
"Lavatory's just over here."  
"I don't really need-"  
"Neither do I."   
He opened the door for Harry.  
The room was otherwise empty.  
"May I ask a question?"  
"Of course."  
"What did Snape say to you?"  
"When?"  
"When you were...overcome with emotion."  
"Right," Harry said. He looked at his feet. "I'm sorry-"  
Dumbledore knelt down and lifted Harry's chin. "Don't be sorry. Don't ever be sorry. It's all right to feel that way. No matter what people  
impress on you-" he pretended to sneeze. In that sneeze,he hid VERNON. "-it is part of the human condition to feel. I certainly wouldn't censure you for crying or laughing,and no one else worth  
your good company would either."   
"Am I good company?"  
"Always," Dumbledore said. I believe in you. "Now,please tell me what Snape said."  
"He got on his knees and begged me to come back."  
"Say that again."  
"Snape got on his knees and said 'Please come back,Mr. Potter,I  
have a feeling something wonderful may happen,something we both need to see,and without your sincerity,it'll never happen-" He touched  
his forehead again. This time his eyes went wide,and he fell to the  
floor.  
"Harry?" He made sure the boy wasn't about to swallow his tongue and   
elevated his legs. It wasn't easy because Harry was actually   
convulsing and twitching involuntarily. His eyes were squeezed shut.  
"NO!" Harry screamed. He tried to open his eyes  
-and found himself on a strange street; there were palm trees   
all up and down the road. The sky looked strange,dirty somehow.  
"Hello,Harry," said a horribly familiar voice.  
Harry turned. "Voldemort."   
"Harry,don't listen to him," Dumbledore said. "He can't hurt you.  
I won't let him. Concentrate on my voice."  
Voldemort took out his wand.   
"You know what comes next," Voldemort said. "I've been practicing all  
night,too. I think a good long Cruciatis would be just the thing,so  
I can torture both you and Dumbledore at once."  
"I'm not afraid of you," Harry said.  
Voldemort's other hand twitched.  
Harry's feet left the ground.  
"Concentrate,Harry." Dumbledore said.  
"L-luh-"  
Dumbledore leaned closer.   
"Levitate..."  
Dumbledore grabbed Harry by the sides of his head. "Together."  
Harry took a deep breath-  
"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"  
"Ah-" Voldemort managed,before he rose into the air. "Cr-"  
As he spoke,he dropped his wand."-ucio."  
His wand landed on edge.   
It began to fall in his direction.  
He reached out to it. It was so close,just out of the reach of his  
fingertips.   
"You want this?"  
Harry stood in front of him now. He showed the wand to Voldemort.  
Then he tossed it into the street. It disappeared down a sewer grate.  
Voldemort fell; his legs went out from under him.  
"Go get it," Harry said. "And get out of my head."  
Harry opened his eyes. "Wow," he said.   
"Harry?"  
"I'm all right," he said. He threw his arms around Dumbledore just  
as Dumbledore was reaching for him. They sat like that for awhile.  
Dumbledore broke the silence after awhile.   
"You know,the night isn't over yet," he said. "If something does   
happen out there,I would hate to miss it."  
He held onto the warm old wizard for another moment.   
"Let's go," Harry said. "Will you tell another story?"  
"I certainly will," he said.   
Together,they went back outside. 


	11. 11

11.  
  
THE ODYSSEY OF DRACO'S TONGUE  
  
The stairs tasted interesting. The floors were even better. Since they shifted around so much, he was able to sample an interesting array of flavors. Shoe leather. Water from the overflowing toilets in a nearby bathroom. Shedded fur. The one thing he couldn't do was talk. He was enjoying his freedom too much to go back. He could hear his owner thinking all the way back in the Great Hall. He had a psychic flash: Draco, the kid who'd made him so sharp and unfriendly,lying on the Slytherin table,trying to remain perfectly still lest he choke. Screw him. If he could detach himself from the little jerk's mouth,he would. He could feel himself elongating as he went.  
  
He was still deciding upon a name. With a name,he could be truly  
free. He would not have to hear Draco's thoughts. GET BACK HERE  
was a big one and I'M GOING TO KILL WEASLEY FOR THIS was another  
subject that weighed heavily on his mind. I'm never ever coming   
back,he thought,and Draco banged his fists on the table.   
  
As he slithered across the second floor, he sensed a girl nearing  
him. He tried to get Draco to tell him who it was,but of course,  
Draco couldn't see this. The girl picked him up. "Got you," she   
said. Suddenly,he surged and she was holding more than she could  
handle. He covered her with saliva. Then,another voice: "Just DROP  
it,Blaise." So this was the enigmatic Blaise Zabini. Judging from  
the tongue bath,she was a thick-faced girl with a down-sloping nose  
and almond-shaped eyes. Draco knew her; from Draco,he learned her  
eyes were azure. If Draco had kissed her,he would have been   
familiar with her insides as well,but he hadn't. In his opinion,  
Draco was too hateful for to waste a kiss upon.  
  
"Is there a countercharm,Professor?"  
"Of course,Miss Zabini." Sounded like Professor Flitwick. He   
quickly learned that Draco didn't like Flitwick much,but that  
was no surprise because Draco hated pretty much everybody.  
PROFESSOR FLITWICK IS A PIG-FACED FREAK! Draco thought.  
"Ah,Miss Chang."   
Cho Chang. Draco felt nothing for her.  
"Oh. Hi,Professor Flitwick. You're Blaise Zabini,right?"  
Blaise shifted from foot to foot. She was kind of stuck to the floor. "Right."  
"I think we have the situation in hand. No pun intended."  
Flitwick uttered some words Draco's tongue did not understand.  
After the words were said,he felt a strange energy surging through  
him,and he knew that he had begun to retract. I don't want to go back!  
he thought,but here he was retracing the path.  
  
Finally,he found himself inside the Great Hall. Then,before he knew  
it he was back in Draco Malfoy's mouth. Draco put his hands over his  
mouth. When he took them away,he opened his mouth and let out a long and satisfying scream. 


	12. 12

None of these characters belong to me. "Conversations In A Dead Language" belongs to Thomas Ligotti. "Identity Removal" and "Junkyard Funeral" belong to Schnauzer.   
  
12.  
  
"-but they would never find it in the places they were looking,"  
Professor Dumbledore read,and closed the book.  
He studied the faces around him,glowing in the surreal firelight  
Minerva looked impressed. Harry sat openmouthed,and Dumbledore   
knew he would be borrowing more than just Poe. Madame Hooch,  
statuesque as always,sat still,those mysterious eyes wide. Severus  
was lost in thought,comprehending the full scope of the story.  
Dennis and Alastor both sat openmouthed. So did Colin,although he  
had fallen asleep. Hagrid was laughing about something. Sprout   
flashed her best witchy grin at Dumbledore.   
None of them could speak except Dennis. "Wow," he said. "That was  
just...wow."  
"Thomas Ligotti has that effect on people," Dumbledore said. "I knew  
this book would be perfect for Halloween."  
"What compelled him to write that?" McGonagall asked.  
"The story got in his head," Moody said. "Probably couldn't sleep  
until it was all down."  
The story,"Conversations In A Dead Language," had been the last  
in a Ligotti triptych that had included "The Frolic" "I Have A  
Special Plan For This World" "The Nameless Horror" and "New Faces  
In The City" as he had previously promised.   
"Sometimes the visions are dark," Snape said. "But there's nothing  
wrong with a well-told horror story."  
"I brought only the best," Dumbledore said. "You know,I brought  
some candy. I don't remember what I did with it."  
He looked into the starry sky.  
Something fell out of the darkness.  
It bounced in front of Hagrid.  
He picked it up. "Chocolate," he said. He gave half to Sprout.   
Hagrid looked at Dumbledore,and saw his twinkling eyes.  
It began to rain candy.   
"The one thing we were missing," Dumbledore said,trying his hardest  
not to look pleased with himself. He magicked a wooden bowl out of  
nothing and caught as much as it would hold.  
The shower was short but bountiful; sweets of all sorts showered down on them,including Chocolate Frogs,which bounced around the circle until they were still. When it was over,they were buried in several feet of Halloween treats. Colin,fast asleep,was barely visible. They let him sleep.  
  
"Have you ever met Bertie Bott?" Dennis asked,chewing on an Every  
Flavor Bean.  
"I have never met the man," Dumbledore said. "For all I know,Bertie Bott might be a woman. I'm not even sure if there is such a person  
in the first place. What flavor did you get?"  
"It tastes like milk," Dennis said.  
"Fresh,I hope."  
Dennis nodded.  
"Mine tastes like dirt," Snape said.   
"Have you eaten dirt,Professor Snape?"  
"Enough to know the taste,Mr. Creevey. Something funny,Minerva?"  
Professor McGonagall coughed. "No,Severus. Nothing." She tried to  
look serious and failed.  
Snape let her laugh.   
Tonight had been an experience. He felt like he understood Linus's  
state of mind; he felt that this was the closest to a spiritual  
experience to which he would ever come. "Albus,what time-"  
Dumbledore checked his watch. "Nearly two in the morning,Severus."  
"We're up late," Dennis yawned. "Is this what it's like to grow up?"  
"I wouldn't know," Dumbledore said,his mustache twitching.  
"Mornin' and night get blurred,sometimes." Hagrid said.  
"I've noticed that," Harry said,working on a chocolate bar.  
"You know..." Snape said,"It's like you said,Albus...we came together in the spirit of Halloween. Believing the Great Pumpkin would come united us-"  
"Did I say that,Severus?"  
"I remember some of it," Minerva said. "Severus is right."  
"Well,thank you,Minerva, I'll mark my calendar. 'Today,Professor  
McGonagall agreed with me.'"  
Minerva buried her face in Dumbledore's shoulder,unleashing cackles  
that befitted a witch. The power of pumpkin compels us, she thought,  
and laughed even harder.  
In no time at all,Dennis was asleep. Alastor stood up and picked  
him up off of the ground,cradling him in his arms. The group watched  
him do this in silence. He put Dennis down just outside the circle,  
where he was able to stretch out on the soft grass.  
"Can you spare a blanket,Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked.  
"'Course I can," he said. He began to rise.  
"I'll get it." Dumbledore said. "Be right back."  
He got up,took a few steps-  
Then he came back and swept his bowl of candy off of the ground.  
He strode to the door and opened it.  
His shadow spilled across the moonlit floor.   
Dumbledore stepped into the darkness,and closed the door.  
He began to notice a subtle stench,one he knew well. It grew  
more pungent as he crossed the floor. It was the smell of   
human sewage,biological waste,the likes you could only find...  
"In a sewer," he whispered.  
In the darkness,something shifted.  
"Hello,Dumbledore," it said. It sounded as if it were fighting   
to clear its throat of sludge.  
Dumbledore was not afraid. He was an old man. If this were Death,  
black-cloaked and skull-faced,he would not be surprised.   
Then,there was another voice,and for a moment,Dumbledore was   
in another place.  
-it was like a depressurizing airplane,things flying everywhere:  
pieces of stuffed animals, mattresses,inflatable beach balls,  
cream pies,being thrown around,especially at the band onstage,who  
weren't missing a note. "-and I KNOOOW I'm gonna be at your FUNERAL-"  
Most impressive was the pirate ship-  
and then he was back in Hagrid's hut.   
He heard,"Lumos."  
Soft light cast his shadow on the wall.  
"You thought the Great Pumpkin wouldn't come," Voldemort said. "Here  
I am,Dumbledore."  
"Hello,Tom," Dumbledore said. Ten. "You look terrible."  
"The boy threw my wand down a sewer."  
"Certainly smells that way." Nine.  
Voldemort grinned. "Those would be terrible last words."  
"Are you going to kill me,Tom?"  
"Why not? I've just spent the last few hours in a dark,dank sewer.  
I'm feeling reckless. I was going to kill Harry in front of you  
and then leave you alive-see,I just read this wonderful book called  
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER-"  
"They made a mess of the film." Eight.  
"Oh,they certainly did," Voldemort said.  
"You've seen it," Dumbledore noted. Seven  
"Yes. Yes I have." He frowned."They took a great book and vomited all over it. The book made me realize that the worst punishment for you would be to live in a world without Harry."  
"That would be terrible," Dumbledore agreed. Six.  
"I'm going to kill you," Voldemort said. Five. "Then I'm going to massacre your party outside-" Four. "-and then kill everyone in  
that blasted castle." Three.  
"Then I suppose you should kill me," Dumbledore said. "There's no  
way that would ever happen if I were alive."  
Two.  
"I didn't think it would end this way," Voldemort said. "I mean,  
you with a bowl of candy between life and death."  
One.  
"No more candy for you,Professor."  
He grabbed the bowl away from Dumbledore.  
"Always the student,aren't you,Tom?"  
Zero.  
Voldemort looked from the candy to Dumbledore. His mouth fell open.  
Then the portkey activated,and disappeared along with Voldemort.  
"Damn,I'm good." Dumbledore said.  
  
"-Last time we played here,we got paid a hundred and forty-five   
dollars. Unfortunately,we cause a hundred fifty dollars in damage.  
Here's the song that wrecked this place. We call it...'JUNKYARD FUNERAL!'"  
Voldemort materialized in the middle of a vicious mosh pit. There  
were limbs flying everywhere,and not all of their owners were sober.  
Someone kicked his knee out from under him and he went down,the  
bowl of candy spilling onto the floor; he lost the bowl,too,and   
someone fell on his outstretched leg; there was an audible CRACK  
and Voldemort screamed as everyone around him began to fall,knowing  
they weren't going to kill him,because there were worse things than  
death in this place. 


	13. 13

13.  
  
This chapter was written listening to The Nutcracker Suite   
  
"Bad pinch," the nurse said.  
She slid the needle into Voldemort's hand. It felt as if she  
were trying to insert a new bone.  
They had strapped him down onto a gurney with leather straps. Even  
with a leg in a cast, he still had one good leg and two arms. And,as  
one orderly found out,teeth.  
He passed in and out of consciousness for awhile.   
He remembered walls with sharp angles,acoustic ceilings,and  
most of all the antiseptic smell,skin scrubbed down to the bone  
mixed with latex and rubber and blood.  
"Is he a crackhead?" he heard somewhere behind him.  
"Nutcase," another voice said. "Welcome to another MetroHealth  
emergency room Halloween."  
Darkness for awhile,and then lucidity: "Says here he's scheduled for   
ECT. Let's get it overwith."  
They wheeled him into another room with machines he didn't  
recognize. "Neil? the Brevital,please?"  
The doctor named Neil leaned close to Voldemort. "Sir? I'm going  
to need you to count backwards from twenty. Can you do that for me?"  
"Twenty...nineteen...eighteen...s....seventeeen...sixteen..." it  
was so hard to stay awake-"f-f-fifteen...fourteen...thrrrmfzzzz..."  
"Great. Now the succinylcholine."  
A nurse slid another IV,this one in his arm. Succinylcholine, for those of you who aren't familiar with medical terminology,is a muscle relaxant used to prevent the patient from accidentally breaking bones during the procedure. When this was administered,  
the patient's jaws were pried open; the block of rubber in his  
mouth was obviously a deterrent to the biting of the tongue. After  
that,they placed a mask over the mouth so as not to deprive the  
brain of essential oxygen.  
Had Voldemort been awake,he might have relaxed as the warm jelly was administered to his temples. Of course,the electrodes might have  
ruined the feeling. They were attached to the sides of his head.  
Then,without ceremony,they turned the machine on-  
Harry sat upright.   
The fire was still burning.  
A unicorn had wandered out of the forest. It had a long silver mane,  
and silvery eyes. Professor Dumbledore was feeding it right from his hand.It was not quite morning. The sun had not come   
up yet,but it would soon. Harry drew his knees into his chest.  
He remembered something he'd heard..."Unicorns prefer a woman's   
touch" or something like that. Well,it trusted him,obviously.  
"Professor?"  
"That's a good girl...yes,Harry?"  
"Whatever happened to Professor...Mumblety-Peg?"  
Dumbledore looked amused. "You mean Professor Grubbly-Plank?"  
"That's it."  
"She retired from teaching. I don't know where she is now. Are you all right? You looked like you were having a terrible nightmare."  
"I just had the best dream ever,actually." He looked round the  
circle Madame Hooch had gone. So had the Creevey brothers and  
Professor Moody. Hagrid and Professor Sprout were nowhere to be seen.  
The only ones left were him,Professor Dumbledore,Professor Snape and  
Professor McGonagall. Hagrid had covered Snape with his overcoat.  
McGonagall slept under Dumbledore's other arm.  
"Hagrid and Professor Sprout left together. I believe they were headed towards the greenhouses. I need to do some cleaning in there."  
He stuck a thumb towards the hut."Alastor took the Creevey brothers  
back to the castle. Madame Hooch soon followed them. She commented  
on what a gentleman you were last night,by the way."  
Harry didn't blush. He got to his feet.  
The unicorn nuzzled his cheek. He stroked its head.  
"She's beautiful," he said. "Has she been here long?"  
"She's been here awhile."  
"What time is it?"   
"Six-thirty,November first."  
"So I spent all night in the Pumpkin patch."  
For a moment,neither of them spoke; a look passed between them,  
one of silent understanding.  
Harry eventually said,"I think I'll head back to the dormitory."  
Dumbledore nodded. "It's Saturday. Sleep as long as you like."  
Harry nodded. Dumbledore watched him walk into the castle.   
Soon,Severus stirred from under Hagrid's coat.  
"Good morning,Severus."  
Snape yawned. "Excuse me," he said.  
"I hope you found what you wanted to find."  
"Yes," Snape said. "I believe I did."   
He gave Hagrid's coat to Dumbledore. "Give Hagrid my thanks."  
"Indeed."  
"Where did he go?"  
"Towards the greenhouses,with Adrianna. I'd stay away from there  
until Monday."  
"If you say so." He looked around one way and then the other.  
"What happened to Lucius?"  
"I don't know. I suppose he got sick of digging and ran back into  
the forest. I haven't heard any screams in that direction,so I   
assume he found his way out."  
"I think I'll go now," Snape said.  
"If you like."  
"I'll just collect the fire."  
Snape pointed his wand at the fire; it danced into the tip until  
there was no more to burn.  
He nodded at Dumbledore, and made his exit.  
As the sun rose,Minerva opened her eyes.   
She smiled sleepily at Dumbledore.  
"We should do this every Halloween," she said.  
I'd like every day to start like this, he thought. Instead of   
saying it,he took her face in his warm hands and kissed her,as the  
first rays sunlight shone over the land. 


	14. Epilogue

EPILOGUE  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Sibyl...you're fired." 


End file.
